


All These Things That I've Done

by norah



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Transsexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-16
Updated: 2007-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-02 04:38:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norah/pseuds/norah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original/fan fiction based loosely on The Killers' album <i>Hot Fuss</i>.</p><p><i>Somebody told me/ You had a boyfriend/ That looked like a girlfriend/ That I had in February of last year</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All These Things That I've Done

**Author's Note:**

> For kyuuketsukirui. Beta thanks to helens78 and thefourthvine.

* * *

She shouldn't have come back.

Natalie was at a small corner table of the crowded restaurant, fuming. She'd let her mother guilt trip her into coming home from the holidays, and it was already a disaster; she'd almost forgotten how quickly they could get on one another's nerves. Natalie needed a drink.

She looked for the waiter, trying to avoid seeing the couple necking in the back booth. _How gauche_. But just as her gaze skated past them, they broke apart and Natalie froze.

Andy looked different, of course different, but instantly recognizable anyway. It figured she'd run into Andy here, on the first night she came back for the holidays. Murphy's Law of Painful Breakups, maybe. Natalie looked at Andy's new girl - just to grind the salt in - but she couldn't have anticipated how much it would sting when the girl tossed back her long dark hair and smiled.

Jenny.

And then Andy looked up, looked right at Natalie.

"Miss?" the waiter asked. "What can I get for you?"

Natalie stood up and ran.

She could hear someone calling her name but she pushed through the doors and ran for her car, waiting cold in the parking lot under a light dusting of snow.

 

_"I just don't see a future for us," Jenny said. "I love you, but Nat, I want a family, I always have."_

"We can have_ a family, lesbians have kids all the time. We've talked about this. I mean, I'm not ready now, but I want that too, eventually." Natalie could hear the frustration in her own voice, knew that it would just push Jenny further away, but she couldn't stop. "For god's sake, we've been together for five years, we _live_ together, I don't understand how you can think our relationship isn't going anywhere." She pushed her wet bangs back and glared. Should have known when Jenny wanted to go for a walk in the rain it would be for some kind of big dramatic Talk. Jenny had been moody for weeks, and she looked the picture of misery now, her curls flattened where they escaped the hood of her sweatshirt and water dripping off the end of her nose as she stared out at the lights of the bridge._

"Hey," Natalie said, her voice softer now. She touched Jenny's waist, pulled her resistant body into a hug, holding her close. "What's going on, babe? You know I never want to let you go. You are_ my future. You're my best friend, my best girl, my everything. Whatever this is, we can fix it, it's going to be all right."_

Jenny stayed huddled and silent against her for long moments, the damp heat of their bodies gathering between them.

"I know you think that, Nat," she said. "But it won't. I want something else, something you can't give me." Her words were muffled against Natalie's coat, and when she stopped Natalie waited, thinking Jenny was going to name it, this thing she wanted, and then Natalie could find a way to make sure Jenny got it. But all Jenny said was, "I found an apartment. I'm moving out next month. I thought you should know." And she pulled away from Natalie, turned around and walked back down the promenade. Within moments, she was gone.

 

Natalie sat on the twin bed in her old childhood room, leaning back against the headboard, and took another drink from the mug in her hand. She grimaced at the lukewarm whiskey, but no way was she going downstairs to look for ice or a mixer. It was hard to deal with her folks at the best of times - that was why she'd packed the booze to begin with - and she certainly didn't want to talk to them now.

Jenny. Andy. Jenny and Andy, Andy and Jenny. Fuck.

She closed her eyes, dizzy and a little drunk, and saw them again, kissing in the back of the restaurant. She wondered how long they'd been together - they seemed easy with each other, familiar. She wondered if they lived together. She lifted the mug to her lips and savored the burn. Maybe they went home after that. Maybe they shared a smoke under the awning of the restaurant while they waited for a cab, or maybe they walked back to their little cozy apartment, where they took off their coats and kissed again. Maybe Andy would take off Jenny's dress, the way Natalie used to love to do, pull down her zipper slowly, undoing her bra on the way, and then pull it down to her waist, bra and all, baring Jenny's breasts, round and slightly lopsided, before letting her step out of it altogether.

And fuck, what would Jenny do - would she take off Andy's shirt, and touch - what? Did Andy still bind, or were there scars, or - Natalie didn't even know how that was done, had no idea how far along into transition Andy was, didn't want to know. She felt a sour taste rise in the back of her throat and drank a little more, to force it back down. But the pictures kept playing over and over, Jenny and Andy and Andy and Jenny, and Natalie drank from the sad chipped tooth mug, sip after sip, until they went away and let her go to sleep.

 

_"Would you still love me if I were a guy?" Andy asked, suddenly._

"Mmmm," Natalie said, and swallowed her oatmeal. "I don't know. I love Aiden and Tom, and they're guys. But I'm pretty glad you're a girl, hon." She smiled, and ran her hand up Andy's leg. "I like your tits too much - I'd miss them." She kissed Andy's cheek and squeezed the inside of her thigh, way high up. "Among other things."

Andy squirmed away, frowning. "I just, I mean, have you ever thought you might be bi?"

Natalie set down her spoon, suddenly tense. Three years since Jenny'd left her and she was still too sensitive to shit like this. "No," she said shortly. "What are you trying to say, babe?"

Andy didn't look up, and Natalie panicked, frantically thought through the last few months - had anything been different, could Andy be having an affair, could she have met some man at her office, wouldn't Natalie have known_, wouldn't she have guessed?_

"I think I might be a man," Andy said, and Natalie had to play the sentence back through her head a few times before it started to make sense. Andy was already talking again. "Like, I think maybe I'm, you know, trans. I'm thinking about it."

Natalie stared at her, but Andy looked stubbornly at the empty coffee cup and didn't meet her eyes. Andy'd always been butch, yes, to the point of being mistaken for a guy sometimes when they went out, if she wore a bulky sweater or something, but this was …

"Andy, you're not a man," Natalie said, and tried to project all the confidence she could into the statement. "I would know."

And Andy looked up at her and said, "I didn't know myself, not really, how could you?"

Two months later Andy was gone, or rather, Andrea was gone. She'd changed her name legally to Andrew, Natalie heard from Tom as he drove her to the airport, and Natalie could feel him waiting for her to react somehow to the news. She hadn't said anything, her back aching from tension, and he hadn't pursued it. She was moving on to something new; why should she care? She didn't care if she ever saw this fucking place again.

Natalie rested her head against the window of the airplane, watched the ground recede, and wondered if she'd blinked somewhere, at some crucial moment, and missed the point at which things changed. How had it all ended up like this? Was something wrong with her, that all the women she loved had these fucked-up identity crises after a few years? She pulled the crappy little airplane pillow a little higher, leaned back, and closed her eyes.

 

Natalie spent a lot of the next week drunk. It was a good way not to think, and a good way to avoid evenings with her parents - go out, go dancing, go to a bar, get shitfaced and loose and stumble upstairs as quietly as she could in the early hours. She saw Aiden and Tom and Cathy during the days, working through one hangover or another at brunches, and they laughed and caught up and Natalie smiled like she meant it. Nobody mentioned Andy or Jenny. Natalie didn't ask. She wished she hadn't taken such a long vacation.

It was inevitable, given the size of the town, that eventually she would run into one of them again. But it wasn't until last call at the Black Horse, when Natalie was debating if she should take advantage of it or just get her coat and call a cab, that she heard Andy's voice behind her.

"Natalie." It was still recognizably Andy's voice, though it was a little deeper, a little different. Natalie spun around too hard on her barstool and caught the edge of the bar before she went all the way around, wobbling. Andy was right there, standing almost too close and looking nervous.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," she snapped, and then felt like a fool. Drunk at closing time, casting third-grade insults; this was not how she'd wanted Andy to see her.

"Hi," Andy said. "I was hoping, I mean, I know we didn't end things well, but can we talk? Can I buy you a drink?"

Natalie dug out some money and put it down for the bartender. He'd know what she wanted; she'd been drinking the same thing all night. "I'll buy my own drinks," she said flatly, and she could see Andy flinch, but she gestured to the barstool next to her anyway. "But you can talk. No promises I'll listen, but you can talk." She grabbed the fresh glass, and Andy shrugged and sat down, signaling to the bartender and ordering. Up close Andy looked good, in a crisp white button down that fell in a smooth flat line (binding? or surgery?) down to the dark leather belt and faded jeans. The jeans fit well, and Natalie tried not to notice that Andy was packing, tried not to wonder if that was real or silicon, tried not to think about it and then tried harder not to blush, as she dragged her eyes back up and caught Andy watching her look. But Andy didn't say anything.

The bartender set down a beer and Andy took it, the condensation dripping down its sides, but didn't drink. "I missed you."

That wasn't what Natalie had been expecting. "I moved to California."

Andy nodded. "I know. Aiden told me. I run into your mom every once in a while and she tells me you're doing well out there, that you're on track to make partner at your new firm."

Natalie swallowed. Her mouth felt dry, and she sipped at her drink, not tasting it. "Yeah."

Andy fidgeted with the label on the bottle and looked down. "I'm glad you're happy."

_I'm not_, Natalie thought, but she said "Yeah," again, and then alcohol or reflexive politeness made her add, "And you?"

Andy drank, and gave her a little half-smile, tentative. "Better. I, um, I got off the antidepressants, a while ago, and I applied to a couple of grad programs in biomedical science for next year; I'll hear back in a few months."

That was kind of huge, actually. Andy had been deeply depressed and on several different medications for pretty much the whole time she and Natalie had been together. She'd been in weekly therapy and working a dead-end lab rat job, and her weekend rugby league had been the main bright spot in her life other than Natalie. Natalie couldn't imagine this new Andy, and she shook her head to clear the spin of alcohol from her thoughts. "Still play rugby?"

"Yeah, it's a co-ed league, so they still let me play."

Natalie hadn't even thought about that when she'd asked. Andy was still talking. "Jenny plays now too, and we might get Tom to join next season. Our team did pretty well last summer, but we lost a bunch of players, so we have to recruit to keep the league going …"

Natalie wasn't listening, had stopped listening at the mention of Jenny. "Call me a cab, willya?" she asked the bartender, talking over Andy.

Andy broke off and reached out to grab Natalie's arm. "No, hey, Natalie, let me give you a ride home; I've only had about half a beer, I'm good to drive."

Natalie jerked out of Andy's grip. "Don't you have to get home to the little woman?"

"We don't live together," Andy said, pissed off and pleading in equal measure. "C'mon, Natalie, please don't be like this."

Natalie glared. "Fine." She slammed down the watery remnants of her drink and stomped over to the door, shoving her shaking hands into the sleeves of her coat, not looking to see if Andy would follow.

The drama of her exit was lost when she realized she had no idea where Andy had parked, so she stopped and lit a cigarette, sucking in smoke and trying to calm her breathing. Andy came out in another moment, and headed off down the street silently. Natalie followed.

Andy drove silently to the house, and Natalie didn't say anything either. They stopped and Andy turned off the car. Natalie had her hand on the door already. "Thanks for the ride," she said. "Have a nice life."

"Natalie." Andy said.

Natalie didn't open the door. She settled back into her seat and sighed. "What?"

"I never meant to hurt you, you know."

Natalie closed her eyes. "Can I smoke in your car?" she asked.

"Go ahead, just crack the window." Andy turned the key and let the engine idle; warm air came blasting out of the vents and Natalie rolled down her window partway and lit up.

She smoked for a minute. "I know," she said finally, blowing smoke out into the cold air and not looking at Andy. "You did, though."

"Yeah, I figured that out when you stopped talking to me," Andy said wryly, and Natalie snorted. "I guess I kind of always knew there was something — that I wasn't who I was supposed to be." Andy shook out a smoke from the pack on the dashboard, talking nervously, too fast. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it, but I needed to be sure, and I was afraid you'd freak out, which, I wasn't wrong, so I'm not sure what you would've wanted me to do differently. And this, I mean, I feel right in my own skin now, it was the right thing to do." Andy lit the cigarette and rolled down the window on the driver's side, exhaling. "I just wish I hadn't had to lose you to get it."

Natalie looked over. "You're doing okay now, though," she said, and she could hear the bitterness in her own voice, liquor making her words rush out. "You've got Jenny, and you're fucking perfect for each other, aren't you — she can't make up her mind whether she wants dick or pussy, and you're pretty much the ideal blend at this point, aren't you? Missed me so much you're fucking my ex, that's sweet, I'm touched."

Andy made a choked noise. "God, you can be such a bitch. It's not like that, it was never like that, why is everything always about you?" Andy smacked the steering wheel with the hand not holding the cigarette. "Me being a guy, figuring that out, that was about me, it was never about you. Me and Jenny, that's not about you either, okay? She's happy with me the way I am, and you couldn't even stand to talk to me." Natalie drew in a breath and opened her mouth, but Andy cut her off. "It lends a whole new spin to the idea of someone only loving you for your body, really, because I'm the same person I've always been, it didn't change me, I'm just less confused and fucked up and miserable and you'd think that would be a plus, but I guess not for you."

Natalie snapped back, "Oh, and you'd be so okay with it if you woke up one morning and Jenny was like, oh, I have a dick now? I don't think so, you were just as much of a dyke as me, don't give me that bullshit. You weren't who I thought you were, and that pretty much broke my goddamn heart, so shut the fuck up."

Andy drew in a shaky breath. "Okay."

They sat smoking in silence for another moment, until Natalie stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and rolled up her window. "Look, I'm just a little fucked up about all of this, okay?" She rubbed her hand tiredly over her face, feeling the exhaustion as sobriety began to creep in. "I didn't expect to see you when I came back, and then running into you with Jenny, it was like everything I was trying to get away from just rubbed in my face. You're right, it's your life, it's none of my business anymore."

"You should call Jenny," Andy said. "She misses you too, you know, and I think she'd like to talk to you." Andy dug into a back pocket, twisting awkwardly, and pulled out a flat leather wallet.

Natalie didn't even look at the card Andy handed her, just shoved it in her coat pocket. "Yeah, well, maybe," she said, and opened the car door. "Thanks for the ride." She heard the driver's side door open as well, so she wasn't surprised when Andy came around the front of the car. They stood looking at one another, breath white with condensation, and Natalie's chest ached. Andy was still Andy, and for a minute she wanted so badly to just step into that tight familiar hug and hold on.

"If I could have changed myself for you, I would have, you know," Andy said, quietly.

Natalie did know. "I'm sorry," she said, and she was.

"Me too," Andy said, and leaned in and kissed her lightly.

It didn't stay light. Natalie moved into the kiss by instinct, tilted her head and opened up to those familiar, warm lips. And then Andy was really kissing her, desperate and wet and hungry, and Natalie balanced against the cold metal of the car and gave herself up to it. She raised her hands up to fist in Andy's jacket, making little pleading noises, and pressed closer.

And her hand brushed across smooth flat cotton, and she froze and pulled away. _No binding, then_, she thought. _Surgery_.

"Good night," she gasped. She twisted herself away from Andy and fled up the walkway.

"Natalie," Andy called. "Natalie, wait," but she fumbled out her keys and pushed through the door into her parents' house, and didn't look back.

 

 

She didn't go out the next night.

Her parents went to some charity event for the holidays at the downtown Hilton and said they wouldn't be back until late, so Natalie went down to the store, dodging the Salvation Army Santa and enduring the tinny Christmas music and the cheerful "Happy Holidays" of the checker to bring back another fifth of whiskey, with a bottle of diet Seven-Up for a mixer and a couple more packs of smokes, and settled in on the couch to watch TV. It was all ads, re-runs, and holiday specials, but Natalie poured herself a drink and settled in to get steadily, thoroughly drunk.

About three drinks in, in the middle of some black-and-white romantic drama she wasn't really following, Natalie called Jenny.

She hadn't meant to, had meant to throw the card away, but she'd found it in her pocket at the store when she'd pulled out her wallet - and when had Andy scrawled Jenny's number on the back, anyway? At the bar? - and when she got home, she put it on the coffee table with her keys. Which meant that when the whiskey kicked in, it was right there in front of her, and it was too easy to just pick up the phone and dial.

"I didn't think you'd call," Jenny said when she picked up.

"I wasn't going to," Natalie said. She took a drink and the ice cubes in her glass clinked next to the receiver. "I do stupid shit when I drink too much."

"Are you at your folks' place?" Jenny asked.

"Yeah, they went out, so I stayed home. Look, Jenny -"

"I have something I need to say to you, and I want to say it in person," Jenny cut her off. "I'm coming over - don't go anywhere."

There was a click, and Natalie found herself listening to the dial tone. She thought about going out, avoiding the upcoming scene, but she was too drunk to drive, and she wasn't going to give Jenny the goddamn satisfaction anyway. She fixed herself another drink and was back on the couch, with the stereo on just a little too loud, when the doorbell rang. "Come in!" she yelled over the music, and turned the volume down slightly. When she looked up, Jenny was standing in the hallway. Natalie went back to her drink. "There's stuff for whiskey sevens at the bar in the kitchen if you want one," she said. "You know where the glasses are, they haven't moved them."

She heard the refrigerator open and close and ice clack into a glass as Jenny took her up on the offer like she'd meant it, not just said it to be polite. The couch dipped and Jenny grabbed the remote, turned the music down even further, and settled in, sitting sideways, facing Natalie.

"Nice of you to invite yourself over," Natalie said.

"I didn't want you to hang up on me." Jenny looked calm and collected, still made up and dressed in her work clothes.

"That's not really making me more eager to hear whatever it is you've got to say, you know." Natalie wished she'd changed out of her old yoga pants and her sweatshirt, but it was too late. She picked at the hole in the hem of the sweatshirt, concentrating on pulling off the little loose threads.

"I'm sorry," Jenny said. "I mean, that's what I came to say, not I'm sorry about coming over."

Natalie knocked back the last of her drink. "A little late, don't you think?"

"Yes," Jenny said. "You were right, you know. Whatever I thought I was missing with us, I never found it."

"Oh really," Natalie said, getting up and heading for the bar, where she dropped in some ice and sloshed a little more whiskey in the glass, straight. "Because it looked to me like maybe what you were missing was _dick_, Jenny. Which makes it really fucking funny," she said, looking at the back of Jenny's head over the top of the couch, but Jenny didn't turn around and Natalie kept talking, "that you've ended up with Andy, you know, because whatever she's got, it's no more real than anything we had in our toy box."

Jenny did turn around at that. "Fuck you. _He_," and she stressed the pronoun, "isn't going to get the surgery, not that it's any of your business. And it was never about that, okay, I was fucking confused and I made a mistake and I'm sorry, and I just wanted to tell you that, but lay off Andy. It's not his fault I left you, and you fucked with his head pretty badly too, when you walked out on him, so don't act like this is all some kind of conspiracy to cause poor Natalie pain."

She got up and slammed her empty glass down on the bar next to Natalie, and Natalie dropped in a few ice cubes and poured more whiskey, giving her hands something to do. She realized halfway through she didn't want Jenny to stay for another drink - and Jenny had a shitty tolerance level anyway, there's no way she should drive after two - but Natalie was half-drunk and pissed off and she handed Jenny the glass anyway.

Jenny knocked half of it back instantly, and coughed at the burn of the whiskey. She glared at Natalie. "Goddamnit, Nat. I'm trying to _apologize_, here, but you push all my buttons, you really do."

"Yeah, well, great job on the apology so far," Natalie shot back.

Jenny's shoulders slumped and she sighed. "Believe me, Nat, I didn't come here for a fight. I made a mistake when I left you, and I know it fucked you up, and I know you're still angry. Just, I'm sorry, okay? Too little, too late, but I'm sorry. You shouldn't take it out on Andy, though. You two have your own issues, but he's not the reason I left you."

"No, you left me because you wanted something more, something I couldn't give you, I think is what you said, so I guess you came full circle, babe." Natalie watched Jenny finish off the drink, the movement of her throat as she swallowed, and her chest ached again. "Gonna leave Andy too, when she doesn't live up to whatever fucked-up idea you have of what you really need?"

"Keep him out of it," Jenny said, putting her glass down. "And no, I'm not leaving him. Maybe it was a mistake to come tonight, but I've said what I came to say, so." She took a long look at Natalie and turned to head toward the door. Natalie followed. Jenny paused with her hand on the door. "Thanks for the drinks."

"You shouldn't drive home after two," Natalie said, suddenly wanting her to stay. "You're a lightweight."

"I'm fine," Jenny said, but she didn't look certain, and Natalie reached out to catch her wrist.

"Come on," she said. When Jenny let go of the doorknob Natalie didn't move, didn't head back toward the living room or the bar, just stood there. Jenny looked back at her, face shadowed in the low light of the foyer. She looked older, Natalie thought, but still fucking beautiful, and she stepped forward and pushed Jenny back against the door and kissed her.

Jenny stiffened, and put up her hands like she wanted to push Natalie off, but Natalie pressed forward, dipped her tongue between Jenny's lips, and Jenny's mouth parted and she seemed to melt into Natalie instead, hands clutching at the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She tasted like whiskey and smelled like warm girl and Natalie rubbed up against her, ran one hand up under Jenny's coat to cup her breast, thumbing the nipple through the fabric of her blouse. Jenny squirmed and panted and when Natalie broke off the kiss and looked at her, breathing hard, Jenny just looked back.

Natalie held her eyes as she reached between them, popping the button on Jenny's low-waisted trousers and undoing the hook. She pinched Jenny's nipple as she slid the zipper down, and Jenny whimpered and didn't tell her to stop. She was already wet through the thin fabric of her panties, and when Natalie rubbed her fingers over them Jenny gasped and pushed into the touch with her hips, using her hands to pull Natalie into a kiss.

Natalie shoved at the waist of her trousers and Jenny gave a little shimmy of her hips, helping Natalie work her panties down her thighs. When Natalie touched her again, Jenny moved into the touch, slick curls and warm bare skin against Natalie's hand. Natalie wanted to taste her and touch her all at once, and she said so, panting into Jenny's ear as Jenny sucked on her neck, "God, Jenny, missed you, missed this, so good," and Jenny moaned agreement against her skin as Natalie worked her with her fingers, scrabbling with her other hands at the buttons of Jenny's blouse.

She got the top two buttons undone by touch, kissing Jenny messily and rubbing up against her as Jenny squirmed away from the door, hips grinding into Natalie's touch. Jenny's bra was thin nylon lace, and Natalie pulled away from the kiss to lean in and suck at the hard nipple pushing up through the fabric, biting lightly and sucking before pushing the lace down.

It was awkward, bent down with both hands busy, but this kind of dual attention had always been Jenny's weakness, and that apparently hadn't changed. She came, with a little whine, within minutes, and Natalie immediately dropped down and ran her hands up Jenny's thighs, pushing them apart as much as she could. Natalie leaned in and gave herself over to the taste, licking and groaning into the fragrant salt and wiry hair of Jenny's cunt.

There was nothing Natalie loved more than this, and it had been a long, dry couple of years, with only a club hookup or two to provide her with more than memories. And Jenny still tasted like … like _Jenny_, and that was the hottest thing of all. Natalie slid two fingers back into her as she sucked at her clit, desperate for more of this, to have all of it now and to do this forever at the same time. She pressed her other hand hard between her own thighs and ground into it, whimpering into Jenny's curls.

Alcohol used to slow Jenny down, but maybe she had developed a tolerance, or maybe she just found this as irresistibly fucking good as Natalie did, because her second orgasm didn't take long either. Natalie fingered her through it, moaning, and then licked her clean, chasing the taste until Jenny pushed her head away, too sensitive.

Natalie stood back up, ignoring the ache in her knees, and kissed Jenny, who was still panting and shaking. She kissed her again - wetly, messily, the taste of her shared between them, and then pulled back, enough to say, "God, Jenny, missed you, babe, so fucking amazing." She was rubbing up against Jenny's leg again and breathing pretty hard herself, and it was desperate and dizzying, like being on top of the world and about to fall all at the same time. "You could, we could try again, I could be better, you could - "

Jenny pushed her back with a hand on her chest - gently, but Natalie could feel she meant it. She was still leaning against the door with her blouse unbuttoned and askew and her trousers and panties around her thighs, and she looked like sin. Natalie's mouth watered, and she swallowed.

"Nat," Jenny said, closing her eyes briefly and opening them again to look at Natalie straight on, "We can't." And Natalie opened her mouth to protest, even though she could hear the finality of it in Jenny's voice, but Jenny said, "No. Another mistake won't make things right, and I told you. I'm not leaving him." She was pulling up her trousers, hastily buttoning them and shifting her bra and blouse back into place. She still looked - and smelled - freshly fucked, but she got her clothes set to rights and put her hand back on the door. "Listen, this is not what I meant to do when I came over. I'm sorry."

Natalie wiped the back of her sweatshirt sleeve across her mouth, ignoring the sudden sour taste in the back of her throat, the ache under her breastbone. "You sure you're okay to drive?"

"Yeah," Jenny said. "I should go." She opened the door, and Natalie followed her out, stayed watching from the doorway as Jenny walked down the driveway.

Partway, Jenny paused and turned back. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked. She sounded like she actually cared what the answer was.

Natalie shrugged, dug in her sweatshirt pocket for her cigarettes and tapped one out of the pack. "Sure. I'll be fine." She smiled, hoping it looked like she meant it, and lit up.

Jenny paused for a moment. "Okay," she said, and kept walking. When she reached her car, parked in front of the neighbors' house, she waved and got in. Natalie raised a silent hand in answer, and stayed smoking on the porch until she was down to the filter and starting to shiver.

She went into the house. It was only ten o'clock, but it felt like she'd been up for days. Natalie sat on her mother's tasteful leather sofa under the insipid Water Lilies print and pushed down her pants, got herself off with cold, shaking fingers. She went to the bar and threw the card with Jenny's number in the trash bin under the sink. Another drink, and another, until she felt properly fuzzy and the room swam. "Fuck her," she said aloud, to the living room. "Fuck them both," and went to bed.

She'd planned on staying another week, but the next day she called the airline, and after forty-five minutes she had managed to bump up her flight. It was worth every penny of the exorbitant changeover and upgrade fees to be on a plane home the first thing December 26th, tired and hungover and half asleep before the flight even left the ground.

It was a shitty winter.

She sobered up a bit after the New Year — she had to go back to work anyway. One of the partners was out on maternity leave, and her caseload almost doubled as she took on the extra work. It was cold, and when she wasn't at work, Natalie spent a lot of time huddled under the heavy down comforter in her room, sleeping.

Valentine's Day that year was a Friday. Natalie got wasted and woke up the next day with her mouth feeling like glue and dryer lint and her head spinning with pain. After she'd been sick a few times, downed about a gallon of water, and slept half the day, she felt a little better. She smoked on her windowsill, ashing carefully through the open window into the flowerpot outside.

She quit smoking the next day.

It sucked. It sucked beyond belief, and she went through boxes of the foul-tasting nicotine gum in the first few weeks. She started going to the gym after work to exhaust herself from the twitchiness and stay away from the temptation, and that sucked too, because she could barely run a quarter mile on the treadmill without feeling like she was going to die.

It got better, though. She hung on, and eventually she was able to run a couple of miles without having to stop and rest, gasping for air. She started to be able to smell things again, and the twitchiness subsided.

One of women at the gym asked her to dinner one Friday. Kim was petite and bitchy and she made Natalie laugh. They went out a few times, but nothing came of it, and they stayed friends. Natalie found, to her surprise, that she was okay; she felt fine on her own.

She got herself a dog to celebrate, a lab mix she named "Mo." Mo kept her company on her runs, greeted her with exuberant barking when she came home, and curled up with her at night for warmth. Natalie couldn't understand why she'd never had a dog before.

It was a sunny day in May, one of the rare spring days that manage to penetrate the fog and ocean breezes of San Francisco. The windows were open, the blinds were up, and the stereo was on, and Natalie was cleaning the apartment, top to bottom, scrubbing off the winter's accumulated dinge of stale smoke and dog hair.

She was in the middle of vacuuming the runner in the hallway when Mo went into a frenzy of barking; someone must have rung the doorbell. Natalie turned off the vacuum and peered over the stair railing. Sure enough, someone was waiting, a silhouette showing against the frosted glass. Natalie scrambled down the steps, Mo hot on her heels, and opened the door.

Andy said, "Hey, Natalie."

Natalie looked at Andy, standing there on her front porch like this was just a normal visit.

"I asked Tom where you lived," Andy said. "Can I come in?"

Natalie stepped back and let him walk past her, up the stairs.

She shoved the vacuum cleaner up against the wall at the top and said, "Living room's that way," gesturing and tucking her hair behind her ears self-consciously. It was strange to see Andy on her couch, shifting cushions to sit comfortably against one arm and leaning down to skritch Mo's ears. Natalie perched on the chair across the room. She wished she hadn't chosen to wear her old brown skirt that morning; she felt exposed, and tugged it down her thighs ineffectually. She crossed her legs, and tried not to notice Andy noticing. "So," she said.

"I was just in the neighborhood," Andy said, and grinned a little self-consciously. "Thought I'd drop by?"

Natalie crossed her arms.

"I got into UCSF," Andy said, "I start doing microbio there in the fall. And I came out to look for apartments — but I wanted to see you, too."

"You're moving out here?" Natalie said, surprised. "I mean, grad school, Andy, that's great," and she really meant it, it was. "Is, um, is Jenny coming with you?"

Andy ducked his head. "She's applying to districts, yeah, and a bilingual math teacher can pretty much write her own ticket these days, so we're pretty sure she'll be able to find something in time for the start of school."

Natalie fidgeted. "Well, congratulations, I guess."

"Have you eaten?" Andy said. "Because I thought maybe if you hadn't yet we could get something, if you know a good place around here."

Andy looked … hopeful, and the sun was shining warm off his short brown hair. Natalie looked at him and thought maybe she was ready to stop being angry.

"Just let me put on something warmer," she said, "And yeah, okay."

It was warm for the time of year in San Francisco, but it still called for thick tights and a sweater. Natalie brushed her hair back into a ponytail and slipped on some comfortable boots. When she came back out into the living room, Andy was standing up with his hands in his pockets.

"You look great, Natalie," he said, and she blushed a little.

"Um, yeah, thanks," she waved her hand vaguely. "You too." And Andy did, really, relaxed and comfortable in dark jeans and a crewneck sweater.

Andy smiled. "You got someplace good around here? Or I thought maybe we could drive up the coast a little, it's a nice day, find a restaurant out there. I still haven't ever seen the Pacific."

"Well, you'll see it soon enough, moving out here, but sure. We could go north to Bolinas, over the Golden Gate, or south to Half Moon Bay — it's about half an hour either way, maybe forty-five, and there are decent restaurants in either town. Or there's a café down the street that does good sandwiches, whatever."

"I've never seen the Golden Gate, either, except in pictures," Andy said. "North it is, if that's okay with you."

"You'll have to drive," Natalie said. "I don't have a car."

Andy's rental car was just a little economy thing, but the way he drove, it might as well have been a sports car. Natalie rolled down her window and braced herself as best she could as they whipped around the curves of Highway 1, overlooking the ocean. Andy was a good driver, and it was more exhilarating than nerve-wracking, though she let out a few little squeaks at choice curves, which made Andy grin.

He pulled over at a scenic overlook between Muir and Stinson, and Natalie got out, a little rubbery-legged, and stretched her legs while Mo nosed around and Andy went over to the other side of the car to piss. Natalie very carefully didn't look, just leaned against the door and soaked up the sunshine. It was still chilly, with the breeze off the ocean, but it felt good.

Andy came around the car and leaned next to her, and they looked at the ocean together for a few moments.

"So, Andy," Natalie said, at the same time as Andy said, "I know you and Jenny got together after the last time I saw you."

Natalie didn't say anything. She looked over to where Mo was exploring some low bushes and scuffed the heel of her shoe against the ground. So much for reconciliations.

"It's okay," Andy said.

Natalie turned her head, eyebrows arched in disbelief.

Andy shrugged. "Or, not okay, but as much as it could be. I mean, it's not like I wouldn't have done the same thing, the night before, if you still," and he swallowed, "if you still wanted me like that, so I'm not sure who to be jealous of. Which, by the way, thanks for not telling Jenny about that."

"Our little secret, then?" Natalie asked, with a tilt of her head.

Andy shook his head. "No, I told her, I just was glad you let me be the one to do it." Natalie snorted. Andy went on. "Look, this has been all fucked up for years now, you and me, you and Jenny, whatever. And now we're moving out here, and all I want do is try to not be fucked up about it anymore." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at Natalie. "We miss you, both of us, and we'd like to have you in our lives again."

The corner of Natalie's mouth quirked up. "Andy, are you inviting me to a kinky threesome?"

Andy choked and Natalie laughed when she saw that he was blushing. "Jesus, Natalie." He frowned at her laughter, and said, "I don't know." Natalie stopped laughing and looked at him incredulously. "No, I mean, that's not what I meant, but we haven't exactly managed to stay away from each other, either, so I don't know. Though I do know that's not something you want with me, so probably not."

_I don't _know_ that it's not,_ Natalie thought, but that didn't feel right, either. Andy was obviously happier like this, relaxed and confident, and she didn't hate him anymore, but it still made her uncomfortable to think too hard about how he'd changed. It's not that Andy wasn't still attractive, it was just … weird. She didn't say anything.

"I just don't want to see you disappear again. You're important to me. And to Jenny. And if we're going to live out here, I'd want to be able to see you sometimes." Andy lit a cigarette.

"Let me think about it, okay?" Natalie shoved her hands into the sleeves of her sweater. She wanted a cigarette too. "I'm not saying I don't want to see you, or Jenny, or that I don't miss you both. But it's weird, and like you say, we're not good at staying away from each other. There's major potential for disaster, and I don't think I could handle it if everything fell apart again."

"Fair enough," Andy said. They contemplated the view again until Andy stubbed out the cigarette and started over to the driver's side again. "Still interested in lunch?"

Natalie opened the back door for Mo to jump in. "Yeah, but maybe we could eat in the city?"

The drive back was surprisingly lacking in tension, and they were even able to talk a bit over lunch, nothing really personal, but more friendly conversation than they'd had with one another in two years. Andy walked Natalie back to her door afterward, and they stopped on the stairs.

"Promise me you'll think about it," Andy said, leaning on the railing.

"I said so, didn't I?" Natalie asked. She opened her door and let Mo in.

"I mean, it's okay if you decide not to, I just think we should try." Andy looked wistful, and Natalie felt a sudden rush of affection. "Anyway, thanks for having lunch with me." He stuck out his hand for her to shake.

Natalie ignored the hand, stepping closer and ducking to brush her lips across his cheek, dry and chaste.

Andy looked back at her, startled and hopeful.

"No promises," Natalie said quickly.

"I know," he said.

Natalie smiled.


End file.
